


Teaching Us Geography

by windfallswest



Series: Love or War [13]
Category: Marvel, Marvel 616, New Warriors
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Superpowers, Telekinesis, super-science super-screw-ups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 00:03:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10203899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windfallswest/pseuds/windfallswest
Summary: "Sorry," Vance said again. "I kind of got the impression you were done with the super-dramatics. I seem to remember the phrases 'no,' 'hell no,' and, 'this is fuckingwhack.'"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Bet you thought I was done, huh?

The day after the New Warriors got back to Earth, Vance got a call from Commander Rogers inquiring as to whether he knew anything about any recent drastic alterations to the fabric of space and time. Vance had been about to call Tigra about the peer counselling job she'd offered him at her Always an Avenger Centre before they left. He had about six million e-mails and his voicemail box was full, but Vance supposed he ought to do this first. At least they'd let him get a night's sleep. 

Jake Waffles took the mountain to its usual spot off of Long Island in the New York Bight, and Vance flew over to Avengers Tower. Jarvis showed him into an airy conference room; he still remembered how Vance took his coffee. 

Steve Rogers was there, still in the middle of everything even if he wasn't in the field anymore. Also present were Reed Richards, Hank Pym, and Colonel Danvers, Captain Marvel. _Well, it's not as intimidating as my last audience,_ Vance reflected. It only helped a little.

Cap and Hank he'd worked with before, so Vance knew what to expect there. Captain Marvel had been out with Sam and Peter Quill's Guardians of the Galaxy pretty recently, which meant she was up to speed on the wider intergalactic situation. 

"Quill asked me to come out," she told him, "but then Thanos escaped and we were all chasing our tails back here trying to hunt him down. I guess Quill was too busy to let us know when he showed up out there." Danvers' lips twisted wryly. 

"It was a pretty delicate situation," Vance admitted. "But I don't think we have to worry about Thanos, at least not for a while. When he teleported away, Drax was waiting for him."

Cap's brows twitched up. "Well, that would do it."

Vance had never really interacted much with Reed Richards either, but the man's single-minded focus on the scientific details minimised the intimidation caused by his legendary reputation. If anything, he seemed a little put out that he hadn't been included in the fun. Vance promised to have Jake Waffles send along the data they'd collected, which seemed to make him happy, and mentioned that Rich was planning on stopping by.

"You say he still has that extraordinary artificial intelligence?" Richards inquired hopefully. "They were experiencing some difficulties the last time we spoke."

"It looked to me like they'd worked things out. The Worldmind was instrumental in the whole process," Vance told him. "Anyway, I think that's part of what he wants to talk with you about."

"Oh, excellent!"

They were still debriefing when Jarvis came in to ask them about lunch. Out in a team-sized dining room, much less cavernous than the one at Avengers Mansion, the conversation became more relaxed. Colonel Rhodes stopped in and started stealing bites off of Colonel Danvers' plate in what looked to Vance's eye like a very couple-y way. 

"Vance, do you have a minute?" Hank Pym asked when everyone started to drift off in their separate directions.

"Sure, what's up?"

"I sent you an e-mail, but I suppose you've been out of reach. Do you know how I could get in touch with Rage?" 

If Vance couldn't reach him, Robbie would know how. "I think so. Why?" 

"Well, let me ask you," Hank said. "I've been working on this on and off for a while..."

 

Vance called the AAC, then headed back to the mountain. They called him back while he was in the air and asked if he could make it to their office in half an hour. He ended up scrambling into his only good suit and flying back out again at only slightly less than the speed of sound. 

A few blocks away from the address, Vance dropped down into an alley. He'd forgotten to grab a comb, so he had to settle for running his fingers through his hair and hope he didn't look too unkempt. Then he ducked out onto the main street and hurried along the sidewalk, where he went in through the main door like a normal person. 

The Always an Avenger Centre had space partway up the office building. Vance looked around curiously as he made his way back to Tigra's office. There was a small waiting area with an assistant's desk that seemed to be shared with the program director's office. Behind the desk was a Filipino man, maybe thirty years old, with a prosthetic arm. He was staring at his computer screen and biting his lip in concentration but looked up when Vance came in.

"Hi, Mister Adlao? I'm Vance Astrovik. We spoke on the phone?"

"Oh, yes." After a brief hesitation, Vance shook his undamaged left hand when he offered it. "Have a seat; I'll let them know you're here."

Adlao picked up the phone and dialled, spoke a few words, then dialled again. Vance sat and tried not to fidget, then couldn't remember if he'd put his phone on silent and had to pull it out to check. A door opened and he almost dropped it.

"Calm down, Vance. After Osborn and Korvac, _this_ is what makes you nervous?"

"Tigra, hey. It's good to see you again."

Vance had enormous respect for Tigra. They'd worked together closely on the run from Osborn in the resistance; and even though they hadn't always seen eye to eye, the personal courage and determination that had led her to found the AAC were incontestable. Vance's interview here had come up over lunch, and Cap had mentioned that she'd got his successor, Sam Wilson, on board, taking advantage of his experience with social work.

Vance stood and offered her his hand, but she pulled him in for a hug instead. She was wearing business casual instead of the bikini, thankfully. Adlao was watching them from his desk with interest.

"Back on planet Earth for a while?" she asked.

"I should be; thanks for holding the job for me."

Tigra brushed that aside. "We're in a growth phase. Besides, I can't imagine anyone more qualified. I just want you to talk with—oh, here she is now. Nida, this is Vance Astrovik. Vance, this is Doctor Nida Harrell."

With her responsibilities at Avengers Academy, not to mention motherhood, Tigra had decided to bring someone else on board to act as full-time director. She'd reached out to an old friend—not a superhero, but another alumna of the University of Chicago. 

"A pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Vance shook her hand.

"Likewise, I'm sure." The director of the Always an Avenger Centre was a tall woman with a robust frame, light brown skin, and a squareish face featuring a slightly aquiline nose. Her eyes and hair were both dark, and she wore a pants suit cut to slightly Eastern lines. When she spoke, her accent was more British than Indian.

"I'll let Nida take you through it," Tigra told Vance. "Come back and see me when you're done."

Dr Harrell showed Vance into her office and waved him to one of the chairs sitting in front of the desk. She leaned against a corner which had been cleared of clutter that might be knocked off accidentally, evidently a regular perch.

"Well, Mister Astrovik. I've looked over your résumé, and your record. And two of the books."

"Oh, no." Vance covered his face with his hand until he could stop wincing. His record was part of why he'd gotten this job, but just because he was used to having to explain his past didn't mean that he enjoyed it. And the books...well, you couldn't stop people from writing them, and he'd thought it might help raise public awareness and response to the kind of abuse he'd experienced.

"There's no need to be self-conscious; part of being a peer counsellor is knowing what it's like to be in bad positions. Overall, I'm favourably impressed with how you handled the ones you encountered."

_After I got out of prison, anyway_ , Vance thought sourly. 

"I wonder if you could tell me in your own words what made you decide this was something you wanted to do. You obviously have a number of career paths open to you."

"I think the truth is that I want to give people the kind of help I never had when I was growing up," Vance said. "My views on the hero thing have changed over the years. When I was a kid, I dreamed of someone like Captain America coming to save me. I thought that if I were a hero, I could punish the people who deserved it. I thought if I was strong, people couldn't hurt me. But what I learned in prison is that it can't be about punishment—it has to be about helping whoever you can, however you can." He'd learned, over and over, that no amount of strength could save you from pain.

Dr Harrell nodded. "I think you'll do well here. And with more and more of the population developing powers, it's good to have people on staff who know what it's like to deal with that as well. It looks like you'll need to get your Peer Support certification renewed." Vance had let it lapse after he and Robbie hit the road in the wake of the hammer disaster. "And I understand you'll need a fairly flexible schedule."

"Well, I just got back from a month in space," Vance said lightly. "But I'm willing to take more on-call hours to compensate."

"Good. And you don't mind travel?"

"Well, I just got back from a month in space..."

Dr Harrell flashed a genuine smile at that. "Go down to HR when Tigra's finished with you. They'll take care of your paperwork and get you started on your recerts. Welcome aboard, Mister Astrovik."

They shook hands again, and Dr Harrell held the door for him. Adlao waved permission for him to go through to Tigra's office. She was glowering down at a stack of papers on her desk, tail twitching dangerously. Her expression lightened when she saw Vance.

"Oh, thank god. Come on in." She tossed her pen down. "I'm trying to think whether I've ever seen you not wearing spandex. I see you still went with the blue suit, though."

Vance glanced down at himself. It was possible that the navy suit, white shirt, and gold tie bore a passing resemblance to his costume. "How's William? I should have asked before."

Tigra smiled beatifically. "Growing like a weed. I swear, he shoots up another inch every time I blink. How was your trip?"

"Successful. We brought back Rich and Namorita."

"You seem a little subdued is all."

"It ended up being more than just a rescue mission, by the end," Vance admitted. "I had to deal with some stuff I wasn't really prepared for."

"Somehow, it always seems to turn out that way, doesn't it?" Tigra agreed. 

"I just spent the morning at Avengers Tower getting grilled over the debrief. You'd think quitting the Avengers would mean that wouldn't happen anymore."

"And that's another thing." 

Tigra opened a drawer in her desk and took something out, offering it to Vance. He accepted it automatically; it was his Avengers Identicard.

"You don't want to be an active Avenger, fine. But the next time there's an alien invasion or global crisis, we need to be able to contact you."

Vance weighed the card in his hand. This had been his dream once; he'd been so _proud_ to be an Avenger, to be redeemed. For a while, it had seemed like the perfect life was within his grasp. He'd been hurt when he gave it up; but in the end, being an Avenger hadn't been as important to him as loyalty to his friends. 

Tigra was right, though. It was only smart to share resources. Letting pride cut him off from the rest of the superhero community would be a stupid mistake. He slid the card back into its slot on his phone case.

"Good." Tigra sat back in her office chair, gesturing for him to take the seat opposite. "How's Robbie? I haven't heard much from either of you since you left on that road trip."

"Yeah, we kind of fell off the grid for a while there. He's doing okay, you know. This last mission was pretty emotionally gruelling. Hank can tell you about it. Oh, by the way, he asked me to tell you that he hasn't forgotten, and his experiment will definitely be finished before dinner tonight."

Tigra sighed and shook her head. "When he forgets, will you and Robbie be free?"

Vance bit his lip to keep from laughing. "I'm afraid I've got another date."

"Oh? Is Suzie in town?"

Vance coughed awkwardly. "I'm actually seeing someone else, now. But we're looking up an old teammate." He decided not to mention that that was Hank's fault, too.

Tigra made a never-mind gesture as if to say _team, of course_. "I'll just have to go over and drag him out. We'll probably end up eating take-out in his lab again."

For a moment, Vance was lost in contemplation of the fact that he and Kaine had managed to go out to eat in an actual restaurant all of once. They'd been interrupted by business halfway through. At least it hadn't been the sort of interruption that resulted in emergency vehicles and property damage.

They chatted some more, until PA-Adlao buzzed in to remind Tigra about another appointment. Vance glanced guiltily at the wall clock.

"I didn't mean to take up so much of your time," he apologised. "And I still need to talk to HR."

Tigra stood and walked him to the door. "Out of curiosity, what did you two do for money while you were on the road? I didn't think either of you had too much in the bank."

"Well, we still had our Avengers stipends coming in as reservists. But there may have been a few times when we ran out of gas and I had to carry us, truck and all, to the next town. The telekinesis is pretty useful, you know. It's worth a hundred bucks or some minor repairs to a small-town garage if you, say, sub in for their car lift for a day when it's broken."

Tigra put her hand to her mouth, not entirely suppressing the giggles that mental image apparently provoked. Vance smiled wryly and let Adlao direct him to the Human Resources department.

 

By the time Vance was done, it was getting on towards dinner. He dropped down to grab a couple of sandwiches from the Banh Mi cart at Hanover Square—the thing about being able to propel yourself through the air at the speed of sound with the power of your mind was that it worked up an appetite—before taking off again to fly over the rush hour traffic, back to the mountain again. While he was waiting in line, he called Kaine.

"Hey, Kaine. Just checking, but you'd probably rather be gnawed by rats than go to a club with me, right?"

"..."

"It's okay; I'll take Robbie."

"Better him than me."

"Love you," Vance said by way of goodbye.

 

He found Robbie sitting out on one of the balconies, listening to music and playing a game on his phone. When he heard Vance coming, he twisted his neck around to see who it was.

"Whoa, you're on fleek," he said.

"...Thanks? Anyway, do you know if Elvin's still bouncing at that club in Brooklyn?" 

"Pretty sure; bouncing and trouncing street crime. I haven't checked in with him since we got back. Why? You thinking of cutting loose tonight? Getting your groove on? Shaking your booty? About time you decided to live a little."

"Really, I just want to talk with Elvin, and he's been staying pretty much off the grid since Osborn went down. Well, Hank Pym wants to talk with him," Vance corrected himself. "You want to come?" 

"Hell yeah. I mean, what could be better for me than going into a dark, loud, crowded room full of drunk people who might turn into an angry mob at the drop of a hat?" Robbie asked cavalierly. "Hey, don't look at me like that. I'll be fine."

Vance was still a little dubious, but it may have had more to do with what Robbie said next. 

"But only on the condition that you let me pick out your clothes."

 

Vance had drawn the line at letting Robbie do anything weird to his hair, and the blue dress shirt was fine, but he was feeling slightly ridiculous in the galaxy jeans. Well, at least Robbie was in a good mood. 

Vance flew them back out to the general area in Brooklyn, and Robbie steered them the rest of they way using his phone and a lot of guesswork. Months on the road with him had resigned Vance to his idiosyncratic approach to navigation, though. His coping method involved reminding himself that they weren't actually in a rush to get anywhere and that it wasn't like they had to worry about walking down the wrong alley—kind of the reverse.

At ten o'clock in June, Brooklyn's lights had just come on and the sunset was still dying in the sky. Heat was rising off the streets and sidewalks into the falling night as music escaped through open windows, bass thumping out of passing cars and through the walls of buildings. People were talking and laughing, walking with their friends and drawing lovers close. 

"Ahhh, it's good to be back," Robbie said, flinging his arms wide, forcing people to swerve around them. "Not dimensionally disassembled in a frozen wasteland."

"Yeah," Vance had to agree. 

It was a Thursday, so the line wasn't too long. The two of them weren't _quite_ the only white people in it, but the faces around them were predominantly black or hispanic. Robbie, of course, struck up cheerful conversation with everyone nearby. Vance just stood there with his hand over his face, letting him embarrass them until they reached the bouncer at the door.

An enormous, bald black man wearing leather pants and a sleeveless leather vest stared down at them. Elvin always had had one of the easiest costume changes out of all of them. 

Elvin's stony face broke into a wide grin. "Vance! Robbie!"

He clasped Vance's hand and they bumped in for a brief, one-armed hug. Then he and Robbie exchanged a handshake that went on for about forty seconds. Robbie and Elvin had been almost the same age, both at least a year younger than the rest of the team. Despite differences in race, upbringing, and socio-economic background, they'd formed maybe the closest friendship on the team. 

"What's up, guys? Trouble in town? Where's it at?" 

"Nothing like that," Robbie said. 

"You come to party? Aight, I can hook you up." 

"Sweet! I've persuaded Vance to get his rock on." 

Elvin regarded Vance doubtfully. 

"I had pity on him," Vance said. "But we were looking for you, actually. Talk later?"

"Sure, man. I'm not off 'til four, though."

"Not a problem," Robbie assured him, bouncing on his toes. 

_Oh, boy._

 

Clubbing had never actually been Vance's thing. He didn't really drink, he didn't really dance, and he wasn't trying to hook up. Whoever was DJing wasn't bad, so Vance mostly sat at the bar nursing a beer and enjoying the music. Robbie dragged him out onto the dance floor for a while, and there was no real point in resisting. He felt like an idiot, but he'd survived worse. 

"You are so bad at this," Robbie laughed. 

He pushed Vance towards one of the women dancing nearby. She laughed too and pulled him in gamely. It felt weird to be touching a woman again. All he could think of was Kaine's body, hard and strong, and his unshaven face set in an expression of semi-permanent irritation. 

Vance spun his dance partner off towards someone else and made his way back to the bar. When the crowd started to thin out, he slipped out to keep Elvin company. 

"Hey, Vance. Robbie still going?"

"You know Robbie," Vance said. 

"So if there's nothing going on, why'd you look me up?" Elvin asked.

"Do you remember back with the Initiative when we were talking about figuring out a way for you to turn your powers on and off? 

"Oh. Yeah. All things considered, I'm kind of glad that never went anywhere before Osborn came in." 

"Well, I guess Hank Pym still had it on his to-do list, because when I saw him today, he asked me to get a hold of you. You interested?" 

Elvin blinked. "Wow. I mean, wow. I wish someone had figured it out when I was sixteen and trying to go through high school like this. Wow."

"You're, what, twenty now? Twenty-one?"

"Twenty-one, yeah. And I look like I'm twice that. It's fine for fighting, but I look like everyone's dad." Elvin's face was glum. "And even in Brooklyn, a six and a half foot tall black man stands out. I mean, how do you keep a secret identity?"

"Yeah, that's a good point," Vance agreed. Vance, whose secret identity had been a goner years ago, was so ordinary-looking he was hardly ever recognised, despite being publicised as an Avenger and convicted felon and wanted fugitive over the years. "Anyway, Avengers Academy is out for the summer, so he's in town for a while. Think about it."

He asked Elvin what he'd been up to since the Avengers Resistance. Their conversation was interrupted by a disturbance from inside the club, which turned out to be someone getting in Robbie's face for dancing with the wrong girl. Vance and Elvin managed to extract him before he got punched in the face and blew his cover. Elvin went back in to suggest to the woman in question, who was still expounding her views on her boyfriend's behaviour, that she might want to move her conversation outside. 

Vance considered how, even in the old days, Robbie had actually had more self-control than anybody gave him credit for. His judgement had obviously been questionable at times; but in order to maintain his own secret identity, he'd needed to avoid physical confrontations in his daily life. Being forced to just stand there and take abuse when you have the power to stop it—well, Vance hadn't handled that as well himself, now had he?

 

The next day, Vance drove up to see his mother. He rode his motorcycle. Or at least, he rode it once he was past the worst of the city traffic. It had always been a nice drive, through the rolling green mountains of upstate New York.

Saugerties was different from Korvac's recreation. Businesses had come and gone since Vance was a kid. Houses had been painted, added on to, neglected. Yards and gardens, fences and solar panels, all the dozens of little things that changed throughout the years. 

Vance's mother didn't live in the big brown house anymore. She had a smaller place in a different neighbourhood, clean of bad memories. Vance and his mother weren't particularly close; some of the things Vance had done over the years had put a strain on their relationship, not the least of which was killing her husband. She had liked when he was a teacher; that had been easier to understand. 

Vance told her he was seeing someone new. He didn't think the media actually had this one yet, so he had to do all the heavy lifting by himself. Vance's mother had liked Angel, although a little bit more before she found out about her superpowers and a little less than if she'd been Jewish. There had been a lot of tepid, _well, honey, at least you're getting out there again_ , when he'd started dating Suzie. 

"He's—it's serious," Vance said. 

His mother's eyes widened, and she bit her lips together. There were very clearly a number of things she didn't want to say. 

"I know about dad," Vance told her quietly. 

He wished his mother had been stronger, but mostly that she hadn't had such a painful life. Her eyes dropped to the carpet, and Vance wondered if she was about to cry. He reached across and covered her hands with his, grateful when she didn't shy away. 

"I never wanted to hurt you. But I'm not going to make the same mistakes dad did. I'm not going to hide who I am or try to change myself just because it's difficult." 

Her shoulders heaved with a shaky breath before she looked up. She cupped his cheek in her hand, and her eyes were so _sad_. 

"How did you ever get to be so brave?" she asked quietly. 

"Mom..." Vance's voice was choked. 

"You know I love you, no matter what," his mother said, smoothing his hair like she had when he was a boy. "Some of these things just take a bit of getting used to. Are you going to be making a habit of jetting off into space now, like that friend of yours?" 

"Rich is fine, mom. He's even got a new team to back him up now," Vance said, torn between not wanting to worry his mother and, despite everything, still believing that space travel was about the most amazing thing he had ever experienced. 

His mother smiled a little wistfully, her expression saying that she knew nothing she could do would dissuade him, but that at least she was almost as happy for him as she was concerned. Vance experienced a pang of guilt for making her feel that sort of helplessness again, even though—as he'd just been spectacularly reminded—there were so many things in life no one had the power to control. 

Vance's mother took a deep breath. "So, am I at least going to get to meet this one?" 

"Uh." The question caught him by surprise. "He's kind of shy." 

Kaine would drop-kick him off the top of the mountain if he ever heard himself described that way, but it was true. All the surly growling was a defence mechanism. Well, most of it. 

His mother's mouth twisted in a way that meant Vance hadn't heard the last of this, but she moved on. "Are you sure you're all right? You're looking a little peaky." 

The rest of the visit involved a lot of mothering. Vance skirted around the injuries and assorted other traumas he may have suffered out in space. She was somewhat mollified by the news that he had a real job again, and one that didn't require him to wear tights to work. She hadn't taken the disaster at Stamford as badly as Robbie's parents, but there was still the strong suggestion that he might join up with _any other team of superheroes in the country_. That her attitude was understandable didn't make it any less infuriating. Vance left with his emotions churning, glad for the rumble of his motorcycle's engine rattling through him. 

When he got back to the mountain, he found Robbie and Elvin in the rec room playing Super Smash. Vance threw himself down onto the sectional beside them and sighed in relief.

"Hey," Elvin greeted him, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"Hi, Vance." Robbie glanced up, then swore as he got knocked over the side of the floating battleground. "Aw, crap. You went to see your mom in costume?"

"No, but I ran into some trouble on the way back," Vance said in a tone of resignation. 

"And you didn't call us?" Robbie asked, feigning hurt.

"Don't start," Elvin warned. "I'm still mad at you guys for not calling me when you got the team back together. And don't give me that about you all getting kidnapped. You were in New York. You called Sil."

"It was a darkforce thing," Vance excused himself.

"So you didn't need me?"

_Erk._

"Just say 'sorry', Vance," Robbie told him.

"Sorry," Vance repeated obediently. "When you finish destroying Robbie, you can stomp me next."

"I can stomp both of you at once," Elvin said, grinning. " _Space_ , man? You go into outer space to save the universe and no one thinks of me?"

"I was just catching Elvin up on things," Robbie explained.

"Sorry," Vance said again. "I kind of got the impression you were done with the super-dramatics. I seem to remember the phrases 'no,' 'hell no,' and, 'this is fucking _whack_.'"

"Which, to be fair..." Robbie muttered.

"You guys really got Nita and Rich back, though? Really?"

"Yes, really. I keep telling you," Robbie said, sounding irritated. "What, you think I've gone loopy again?"

Elvin opened his mouth to reply; Vance cut across him. "As much crazy as there's been lately, almost none of it has been Robbie's." More of it had been Vance's, actually, this time around. "You thought about it? Getting control of your powers?"

"I _am_ in control of my powers," Elvin said hotly, jabbing violently at his controller. "It's not like I go around breaking shit I don't mean to break. Never accidentally squashed a street thug, have I?"

"Okay, but have you thought about it?"

"I dunno. I can talk to the dude, I guess. It might be worth a try. Long as it don't turn me into no psycho cyborg robot, anyway."

Jake Waffles came in and joined them a little later, turning it into a real tournament. Vance and Robbie were pretty much used to the way he growled and barked at the screen. Elvin tended to growl back. 

 

Vance spent the entire weekend going through his e-mail. When that got too mind-numbing, he changed tracks to some of the training he had to do to renew his peer counsellor certification, since he was supposed to start on Monday. Well, he knew what he was going to be doing with his free time this week...

He did send a text to Selah just to confirm that she and Mark hadn't been waylaid going to see his family. Everyone had earned some time off, not that circumstances ever cooperated; but he hadn't heard anything from that quarter since they left. 

Yes, there was Hank Pym's message about Elvin, about halfway through the backlog of Amazon deals and Best Buy promotions clogging up his e-mail. Reminded, Vance sent Hank a reply saying he'd gotten in touch and Elvin was interested in hearing more. 

They managed to get something set up for Monday evening, since Elvin had the night off. Neither Robbie nor Elvin seemed especially happy to be walking back into Avengers Tower.

Vance brought them in via the landing pad on the roof, actually, since there were usually a few paparazzi hanging around the tower entrance. You'd get some spotters up in the high-rises, but they couldn't get nearly so good of shots.

Jarvis met them at the door and showed them to the lab where Pym was set up. "Master Pym? Your visitors are here."

"I'm not expecting—oh, is it that late already?" Pym looked up, blinking, and craned his neck around to see them by the door. 

"You ready for us?" Vance asked.

"Hello, boys. Come in, come in. It's good to see you again. We're fine for now, Jarvis." 

"Very good, sir."

The door slid shut behind Jarvis. Pym clapped his hands and rubbed them together, sizing up Elvin. Vance wasn't sure, but he thought Pym grew a few extra inches, although he did always look a bit bigger as Giant-Man, even when he wasn't house-sized. 

"So what's up, doc?" Elvin asked. "Vance says you've got something for me?"

"This." Pym put something from one of the computer consoles up as a holographic image over the central projector. "I've been going back over the work my Skrull imposter was doing, in case there was anything problematic—or useful—in it. What with one crisis and another, it's taking me a while to get through it all, or I'd have gotten to you sooner."

"Alien invaders designed this thing?" Robbie asked. 

"I ain't want any alien shit messing with my powers," Elvin said firmly.

"No, no. He didn't have a chance to do more than make a note of it," Pym reassured them. "But it occurred to me that he might have made promises to you that I knew nothing about and you've been waiting all this time."

"So this was totally your own work?" Vance confirmed.

"I did consult with Doctor McCoy in Westchester and the Vision on some aspects," Pym admitted. "There are potential applications for other powered individuals whose abilities are useful but interfere significantly with their daily lives or, as happens sometimes, medical treatment. Several of the students in our first class at Avengers Academy could have benefitted from this technology, so in fact it was something I was working on already." 

A cloud passed over Pym's face. Vance and Robbie had been on the road when the news of Mastermind's sick little game had broken. To Vance, it had almost felt like Stamford all over again. This wasn't a low-risk profession, but knowing that kids he'd helped train had been tortured and killed like that was gut-wrenching. 

"And it's not permanent," Elvin said.

Pym shook his head. "The goal was to come up with something that would give the individual control, allowing them to switch back and forth at will, with minimal transition time. The other reason it took so long is that I didn't want to bring it to you until we came up with an internal control mechanism, something that couldn't be damaged or set off accidentally. I'm sure you can imagine the problems inherent in a remote-control system."

"What, someone being able to switch me on and off with an app on their phone like the hall lights?" 

"Yes, exactly."

"So how does it work?" Elvin asked.

"As you can see, it's a biomechanical design," Pym explained, pointing at various sections of the projection. "Like other systems that have been devised over the years for similar functions, it has to be individually tailored because most bio-augmentations are unique. I took some of my cues from SPIN tech, for example, although obviously an agent designed to deactivate powers permanently differs significantly from one intended to produce only temporary effects."

"And you're sure this'll work the way you think it will? Like, you've tested it and stuff?"

Robbie had his arms crossed, looking on sceptically. "Yeah, how come none of this stuff ever seems to have to go through FDA or anything?"

"The Avengers are an international organisation," Vance replied absently. "Avengers Tower has extraterritorial status."

"Really?"

Pym nodded. "Vance is right. Although the legal situation is the Underspace was even less well-defined," he mused. 

"This is making me feel real confident," Elvin said. 

"Oh, I've tested it. I won't pretend I can predict exactly what will happen, but I imagine your physiology will revert to something more within the usual range and you'll look more your age."

"And you're sure you can reverse it?"

"Absolutely. You'll have complete control."

Elvin turned to Vance and Robbie. "I don't know, guys. What do you think?"

"It's you're choice, but it sounds like it's worth a shot," Vance said.

Robbie chewed on his lip. "I dunno. You gotta live your life, man."

Elvin frowned, considering for a long moment, then nodded. "Yeah. Okay. Let's do this."

While Pym was getting set up, Vance's phone buzzed. Selah had answered his text (finally) with a series of incomprehensible but generally positive-looking emoji. Vance decided not to ask for further clarification, although Robbie, peering over his shoulder, supplied him with a completely unsolicited attempt at translation. 

"Ah, young love," he finished with a wistful sigh. 

"No wonder you don't have a girlfriend."

"Harsh," Robbie approved cheerfully. "Speaking of, how's your boo?"

"Please let me be there if you ever call him that to his face," Vance told him. 

"Boo?" Pym asked.

"Him?" said Elvin.

"Okay, first, _old_ ," Robbie said pointing at Pym. "Second, Vance is dating the Spider-Grouch now."

"The Scarlet Spider," Vance corrected him.

"I'm very happy for you both," Pym said in the tone of a man who'd obediently memorised the diversity policy and whose sexual orientation included artificial intelligences. 

"Thank you," Vance said, and changed the subject. "Are you almost ready?"

"Just about. May I?" Pym gestured at Elvin with some sort of modified syringe. "Hydraulic adamantium syringe. I need a sample."

"Don't worry, big guy. I'll hold your hand," Robbie said.

"Bite me, toothpick." Elvin stuck out his arm and looked away, his gaze landing on Vance again. "Is he...a nice guy?"

Robbie tried to disguise a bark of laughter in a cough and doubled over, snickering into his hand. Vance shot him a dirty look.

"He's a good man," Vance said. "If you're interested in re-joining the team, you'll meet him."

Robbie choked and looked like he might actually be in danger of falling over. Vance elbowed him in the side; the blow rebounded. "Will you quit that?" 

Pym sent them a quelling look. Vance rubbed his elbow sheepishly. 

Elvin looked thoughtful. "So Ultragirl is single again? You mind if I ask her out?"

"Be my guest," Vance said. "I don't know what she's up to these days; she might be back out in California."

"Okay, the tests look good," Pym said from over at the computer. "Rage, are you ready?"

"Yeah, I'm set."

Pym filled another syringe and gestured Elvin onto a hospital bed tucked into one corner of the room. He hopped up onto it and sat gripping the mattress as Pym attached various leads to Elvin's head and chest. 

Pym found a vein and depressed the plunger. The mechanisms on the sides of the barrel worked, not unlike the way a compound bow drew back. Pym pressed a bit of sterile gauze over the puncture as he withdrew the needle. The skin was already healed by the time he took it away.

"So how long does this take?" Elvin asked, rubbing his arm.

"Not long, given your enhanced metabolism." 

They all waited expectantly.

"It will still probably be a few minutes, though," Pym amended.

Everybody kept watching Elvin, who fidgeted self-consciously. After a couple of minutes, it did seem like he was getting a little smaller. Vance sighted the top of his head against the equipment on the wall and tried not to blink. 

Elvin _was_ getting shorter. His muscles were disappearing, his feet were drawing up away from the floor, even his shoulders were getting narrower. Vance couldn't see Elvin's face behind the mask, but his body had taken the proportions of a young man near his actual age.

But the transformations didn't stop there. Elvin kept shrinking, getting shorter and thinner. His barrel chest became narrow and his arms spindly. The waist of his leather pants gaped around his hips. With a muted _clunk_ , one of his enormous combat boots slid off of his foot onto the floor. 

Vance bit his lip. 

"Oh," said Pym in surprise.

"Dude," Robbie said in awe.

"What?" Elvin asked. His hands flew to his mouth, and then he dropped them to stare aghast at the studded leather half-gloves hanging on his skinny fingers. "What the hell? What the hell did you do to me?" 

Elvin glared at Pym. His mask was so loose the eyeholes didn't line up. Elvin pulled it off and jumped down from the bed. He was barely five feet tall.

"Wow," Robbie said. "Honey, you shrunk the superhero. You sure that wasn't Pym particles?"

"Yes," Pym said defensively. Belatedly, he moved to stop Elvin before he could mess up any more of the sensor leads. "Fascinating. You seem to have stabilised for now. Stay here while I examine these measurements."

"I'll show you fascinating!" Elvin snapped in a piping voice. 

Vance's face screwed up in thought. "El—Rage, how old were you when you got your powers?"

Pym looked up from the computer screen. Elvin held up his pants pugnaciously. 

"Twelve," he said.

Pym frowned. "That looks about right."

"What? This ain't right! You gotta fix me _now_."

"I mean this isn't a side-effect or a malfunction. The biomechanical agent is doing exactly what it's supposed to. This is how you look without your powers."

"Are you crazy? I ain't no twelve-year-old. I can't walk around like this!" Elvin objected.

"Well, I'd suggest you do walk around like that for at least a week," Pym said. "We need a baseline to see if you've stopped aging completely or just in your empowered state."

"Man, I can't do that. I've got work. I can't bounce like this. My voice hasn't even broken!"

"You know, it does make a certain amount of sense," Vance mused. "Why you've never really get a handle on your anger, and the way your emotional development has stalled—" Vance broke off, realising belatedly how that might sound.

"Because I'm still a kid, is that what you're saying? It's nice to finally know how you really feel about me."

Robbie put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, he didn't mean it like that. Look, Pym says his stuff is working, right? So you should be able to turn your powers on again. Why don't you take a breath and try and figure out how to do that?"

Elvin glowered up at him. His breath trickled out slowly through his nostrils. Petulantly, he hitched up his pants again. The legs were bunched up around his feet, and the foot he'd lost the boot off of was almost two inches lower than the other one. Elvin scrunched his eyes up.

"Grow. Come on, dammit, grow," he urged himself. He opened one eye to glare accusingly at Pym. "This isn't working."

"It's a mental trigger," Pym explained. "It may take a little practice."

Elvin opened his other eye and glared flatly at him, then closed them again. 

It took three hours and Robbie, of all people, teaching Elvin basic meditation exercises to turn his powers back on. Pym was upset by Elvin's obvious distress, and he'd stayed over on the far end of the room, poring over the new data. 

"Well, at least that much works," Vance said. 

"Man, that was _not_ what I had in mind," Elvin complained. 

"Think of it this way," Robbie suggested, "you may have discovered the secret of eternal youth."

Elvin didn't look impressed. "Yeah. But _nobody_ wants to be twelve years old forever."

At length, Elvin was persuaded to turn his powers back off until he had to go to work again the next night. He and Pym almost came to blows. In the end, Elvin agreed to stay and be monitored if Robbie would keep him company. Vance, who could hardly be late for his second day of work, reluctantly left them there and flew back to the mountain alone. 

Vance took a shower and pulled on pyjama pants and a tee-shirt to sleep in, since the mountain's air conditioning kept it cool inside. He fell into bed and rolled onto his back, flicking the lights off with his telekinesis. 

He was restless, mind racing off in twelve different directions at once. Although he was tired, he was too keyed up to sleep. It still wasn't unusual, but for some reason the space beside him that Kaine sometimes occupied seemed very empty tonight.

He wondered where Kaine was. Patrolling, probably. Vance had flown low and slow enough on his way from the tower to the mountain to notice trouble, and he'd ended up stopping a mugging and a car thief. He'd also seen at least three other superheroes out and about. The whole conurbation of New York was crowded. 

Vance smoothed his shirt down over his chest. His nipples peaked as he passed over them, and he circled back around, rubbing the wash-softened fabric over them. It sent an electric thrill through his nerves and down his stomach to his cock. 

Sliding his hand up under his shirt, he thought of Kaine and the way his dry, abrasive palms rasped over his skin, roughly good. He probably hadn't shaved since Vance had seen him last, and his kisses would be particularly bristly. 

Vance twisted one of his nipples, thinking of how Kaine would pinch them unexpectedly or roll them between his fingers. He imagined Kaine biting them and worrying marks onto his neck, and he could almost feel the familiar prickle of stubble under his jaw. 

Kaine would be a warm weight above him, pressing him down into the mattress. Vance had a new understanding of why Kaine enjoyed full-body contact so much. For someone who had only felt pain before, physical pleasure would be that much more intense. 

Vance was more than half-hard now. He wished he were pursuing Kaine's pleasure now and not just his own. At the same time, it sent a flush of arousal through him to think that touching _him_ made Kaine feel so good. 

Slipping his hand into his pyjama pants, Vance started stroking himself. He kept his touch light until his cock filled. Fluid leaked from the tip and he smeared his palm over the head, the sensation making his skin draw up tight into goosebumps.

Slicker now, his hand moved more easily over his shaft. Vance spread his legs and dug his heels into the mattress. He pressed with his power against the sensitive area behind his balls, then further back. Vance rubbed there in counterpoint to the movement of his hand. 

Slowly, he pulled the tight ring of muscle open. Vance reformed his thought into something longer and more solid, expanding it into his body. He'd never gotten out any lube, so he didn't thrust; instead, he made it wider, stretching himself around it. 

Vance changed the shape to vary the pressure as he fucked up into his hand with increasing urgency. He was half aware of making desperate noises in the still air. Eyes scrunched shut, he drove himself over the edge.

The telekinetic construct melted away in the aftershocks. It left Vance feeling abruptly empty. After a minute, he pulled his shirt off over his head with clumsy fingers and made a muzzy attempt at cleaning himself up. Vance lobbed the shirt away, not bothering to aim for the laundry hamper, then dragged an extra blanket up from the foot of his bed. He pulled it tight around his shoulders and rolled over onto his stomach, telling himself firmly to go to sleep.

 

Vance was still stuck in training at work. There was more paperwork, and he spent part of the day shadowing another counsellor. The job was to help people who were going through or had gone through the sort of things Vance had gone through in his life, which was to say parental abuse, manslaughter, incarceration, running away from home, sexual identity issues, and coping with superpowers. Vance wondered if he shouldn't make an appointment with his own therapist at some point.

"Mostly, you're a sympathetic ear," his trainer said. She was a plump young African American woman with a lot of Harlem in her voice. Her name was Chayelle. "Give some advice, you know. But you do get some who are suicidal or in real danger. Me or Dushime or somebody will be sitting with you for a while to make sure you don't screw up too bad."

For today, Vance had been sitting in on Chayelle's appointments and listening more than speaking. She'd ask him for his opinions afterwards, cross-checking his judgement.

Chayelle had tattoos down her arms and peeking up from the neck of her shirt. Because of the nature of the job, the dress code for peer counsellors at the Always an Avenger Centre was fairly flexible. This was just as well, because Vance's wardrobe was kind of light on office attire, and his bank account was still light on money to do anything about it. Right now, he might or might not have been taking advantage of the third-gen unstable molecules his costume was made from, which would mimic normal clothing if you thought hard enough at them.

Vance's supervisor clearly knew who he was, but more because she'd been told than for any other reason. His personal history was relevant to which cases he was assigned. He wasn't so famous these days as to be immediately recognisable, and none of his other co-workers showed any signs they knew he was a mutant.

"You'll want to mix around; we're big on inter-department cooperation around here," Chayelle continued. "Get to know the shrinks, too, so you can recommend the right people. And don't be afraid to ask for advice."

Some people called in to the hotline, while some did come in person. The counsellors' offices weren't big; but for the sake of privacy, they had walls that went all the way up to the ceiling as well as actual doors. Vance's had a desk, a computer, an office chair, and an armchair, as well as a little slice of window to keep it from feeling too much like a refrigerator box.

Yesterday, he'd seen the infirmary and been introduced as having first aid training to the nurse practitioner who ran it. There was also a phone bank to sort incoming calls and a small but tough-looking security contingent, as well as the psychologists Chayelle had mentioned, some of whom donated their time around their regular practices. 

Tigra's office was actually on the floor below the working departments, along with the rest of administration and security. That way, visitors wouldn't be walking past patients or be as likely to overhear confidential information, and outraged abusers wouldn't have a straight shot at their victims. 

Vance checked in with Elvin and Robbie a few times during the course of the day. Well, if anyone could keep Elvin distracted, it was Robbie. Although he couldn't help having visions of Robbie picking a fight with Captain Marvel or something. Between the two of them, they could probably manage to knock Avengers Towers down again. There continued to be no tremors and no embarrassing news bulletins, though. 

At lunch, some of Vance's new co-workers swept him along to the sandwich shop on the corner for the thinly-veiled purpose of grilling him. The interrogation continued as they returned to sit in the currently-empty waiting area in front of their offices, doors open so they could answer their phones if they rang. 

Some of them were more open about their pasts than others. They were curious about Vance, but they didn't keep digging when he evaded a question. In this group, people were careful of asking too much about anyone's past. They had all come to terms with things or they wouldn't be here, but even wounds that had healed over could still be sensitive if someone poked at them. 

Vance admitted to having a boyfriend and talked about his work with Childwatch but didn't mention Avengers Academy by name. He said he'd taken some time off to go on a road trip with a friend who desperately did not need to be running around aimlessly and alone, which these people seemed to get. 

For his part, Vance made a good faith effort to keep track of everyone's relationships and interests. He didn't press when information wasn't volunteered, either; but they were easy enough to guess. War, drugs, alcohol, gangs, rape, trauma, abuse. 

Similarly, Vance didn't bring up his superpowers. It wasn't like he was afraid of people finding out; there was no real point in protecting a secret identity that could be blown by ten seconds on Google. In general, his policy was to answer straight if anybody asked him, and he didn't go out of his way to hide his powers. It was more that he didn't want to get into the whole Avenger thing right off the bat. It sounded too much like bragging. 

At the end of the day, he switched his costume back in yet another alley— _ah, the glamorous life of a superhero_ —and flew over to Avengers Tower. He'd have to find a way up onto the roof of the office building at some point. 

Vance's phone vibrated in its hidden pocket and his phone started playing Lady Gaga over his ear com. "Hi, Robbie. Are you two still at the tower, or have you made a break for it?"

"Hah hah. I'll have you know that we've been very good. Elvin's getting a little antsy, though. You on your way over?"

"Well, I was thinking about it; but since you're doing so well with the Avengers, maybe I'll have Waffles take the mountain down to Houston for the night."

"Don't you dare," Robbie told him. "Make your booty calls on your own time. We've got a crisis here."

"You're so high-maintenance." Vance paused to let the tower defences verify his identity. Another reason for coming in by air was that there was a lot less hassle proving you belonged there, as opposed to walking through the front door in street clothes. "Are you back in Pym's lab?" 

"Yeah. Elvin's already started trying to change back, so Pym's got him hooked up to all sorts of gizmos again." 

Vance entered the lab quietly so as not to disrupt Elvin's concentration. He was already growing back to defensive lineman proportions. Someone had found him clothes with enough give to handle the transformation. 

_Well, at least that part works,_ Vance thought.

Robbie, lurking by the door, punched him in the arm in silent greeting. Pym barely looked up from the data feeds on the computer in front of him. 

"Aight. Aight, that's better," Elvin said, his voice back to its usual bass rumble. He stretched and flexed his muscles, throwing a few experimental punches at the air. "I'm back, baby!"

"Glad to hear it, sweetheart," Robbie said in a really bad '30s gangster imitation. 

"Feeling okay?" Vance asked him.

"Oh, hey, Vance. Yeah, I guess. Man, this is _super_ weird."

"Literally," Robbie couldn't help but observe, surprising a snort of laughter out of Pym. 

Everyone turned to stare. Pym cleared his throat. 

"Well, the good news is that I have seen some signs of aging over the past twenty-four hours, which means that you won't stay twelve years old forever. Unless," he emphasised, "you keep your powers turned on all the time."

"But I can't live like that," Elvin objected. "What am I supposed to tell my friends? No one will want to hang out with no punk twelve-year-old."

"The Avengers did," Robbie pointed out.

"Not after they found out," Elvin said. "I don't see why I can't just stay like this. Better to look like I'm an old man than a little kid."

Pym, who was probably pushing fifty himself, gave him a dry look. "I'm afraid Justice was correct in his deductions yesterday, however. You may look like you're forty, but the transformation is essentially cosmetic. Your cognitive development is stalled along with the physical. Here, look at these scans."

Elvin scowled as Pym pulled up two MRIs. "They look the same."

"Precisely," Pym said. "This first one, here, was taken years ago, after a fight when you were with the Avengers, with your powers activated. And this second is the one we took earlier today, after you'd deactivated your powers. Now, compare them with these from a male child of twelve and an adult male, forty. I'm afraid the conclusion is obvious."

Robbie clapped Elvin on the shoulder. "Hey, don't look so down. We'll still hang out with you. And just think: this'll be way cooler when you're actually forty."

"Even if you'd just spend part of the time in your normal state," Pym urged him. "For example when you're asleep, which is when the preponderance of growth occurs anyway."

"Yeah, well, you try and explain that to a lady in the morning," Elvin grumbled.

Robbie snickered. 

"Ten years might sound like a long time," Vance said, "but on the plus side, once you've caught up a little, you can leave your powers on more. Who knows how long you'll live?"

"Yeah, maybe." Elvin still didn't look too happy about all this, not that Vance could blame him. "I gotta go; I'm gonna be late for work. I help Miranda carry the cases in. They're too heavy for her, you know?"

"Yeah, come on, we'll go with you," Robbie offered. "We'll grab some dinner on the way."

"Sounds good to me," Vance agreed.

Pym sighed, but he was used to dealing with superheroes. "Do let me know if you experience any adverse reactions."

"Yeah, sure," Elvin said with a heavy dose of irony.

Robbie clapped him and Vance on the back. "Okay, guys, what do you say? Chinese? It's been forever since I had Chinese. There is no good Chinese in outer space. Vance, put on something with less cape so we can go out."

"Hey, wait, let me get my stuff," Elvin said, darting aside to grab a bag.

Vance let himself be steered out, grateful for Robbie's good cheer, however fragile. There were no better friends anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> I think war might be God's way of teaching us geography.  
> —Paul Rodriguez


End file.
